Chapter 22 Griffin
GRIFFIN
By the time my cock pushed inside of him, he was moaning beneath me, writhing in wanton abandon. I took my time, determined not to hurt him, and he shuddered as I claimed inch after inch until I was completely buried within him.
I held myself above him, breathing hard, and he panted as he looked up at me.
“Are you okay?” I asked, leaning down to catch his lips in another kiss.
He nodded, though his features were a little strained. “I’m getting used to it,” he said, squirming a little and sending shockwaves through me as he shifted.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
He nodded again, and I gave a tentative thrust. He hissed out a breath but didn’t tell me to stop, and I withdrew until I could thrust into him again. The first few looked painful, but after that… His whimpers became moans, and his fingernails dug into my back as he clutched me.
I groaned. “Do it, kitten.”
“You want me to scratch you up?” he asked, lightly running his nails along my skin.
“Yes,” I growled. “Leave your marks on me.”
He obliged the next time I sheathed myself inside of him, nails swiping my back and leaving bright hot lines of pain in their wake.
It felt amazing, and I encouraged him to do it more, do it harder. I started to pick up the pace, watching him to make sure it wasn’t too much,
His expression never faltered from its look of pleasure and delight as he dug harder and harder into my back until I was sure he’d leave lines of blood in his wake.
I didn’t care. I wanted him to mark me, wanted to have the reminder that he’d been there and we’d been together the next time I thought it might be a dream.
He did, and I lost myself in one stroke in the next, filling him over and over until, finally…
Finally, I spilled into him, marking him with my seed every bit as much as he marked me with his fingernails — both of us seeking to leave a lasting impression upon the other, though one would be more visible than the other. We’d know, though. We’d both know just what had happened.
And what would happen again and again, if I had anything to say about it.
Finally, I took in a deep, shuddering breath before I moved off of him. I pulled his sweat-slick body against my own, and I kissed the crook of his neck. My lips came away with the taste of salt, but I didn’t mind. I might not have been the type to swallow, but this was an entirely different taste.
It was still completely, utterly him.
“You okay?” I asked after a moment, when my breathing had returned to normal and I felt like I could hold myself up again.
He nodded. “Uh-huh. Just trying to… figure out what I’m feeling.”
“Bad?” I asked, dreading the answer.
He shook his head. “No. Just different. I feel like a virgin all over again.”
“That’s because you were,” I pointed out a bit dryly.
“Were,” he said with a snort of laughter.
It was the first time I’d heard him laugh, and I’d cherish it each time he gifted me with it. I vowed to make him laugh more, to hear the sound become more and more genuine as he and I settled into something of a routine.
“Get some rest,” I told him. “I know I need a nap after that.”
He hummed in agreement and settled down, heated skin still pressed against my own.
I was gone in seconds, lost to dreams of him even as I held him in my arms. And I smiled for the first time since he’d left.
He was snoring softly when I woke, and I took the moment to simply revel in the feeling of him in my arms. I still couldn’t quite believe he’d returned.
I was still sure I’d broken him beyond repair, and part of me…
Part of me was relieved.
I was so, so tired of being alone.
This was what I’d wanted when I’d first taken him. I’d hoped for exactly this, and I hated that I was questioning it, that it was bothering me at all. Maybe in time it would be okay, but for the moment…
I couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last.
I took a deep breath. I had to believe it wasn’t temporary. He’d willingly left his family behind to be here, and that spoke volumes. He’d chosen me, just like I’d chosen him.
He stirred, blinking owlishly at me, and those lips curved into the most beautiful shy smile I’d ever seen in my life. “Hey,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Hey,” I told him, leaning in to kiss his brow. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Famished,” he confirmed. “My stomach’s threatening to eat my backbone.”
I chuckled. “Then we should probably fix that.” I didn’t have much in the house. I hadn’t been shopping since before I’d gotten sick, and I was down to the bare bones basics. We could make a meal of it, though. It wouldn’t matter what it was. “It won’t be anything special though.”
“That’s okay. I’d even eat tuna right now,” he said, deadpan.
I grinned at him. “You may end up eating just that,” I warned him. “I don’t have much right now.” I hesitated, then offered, “We could order in, if you want, maybe. Pizza or Chinese or something?”
I didn’t have to worry about him trying to flee, not anymore, and I could more than afford a few nights out. Claiming him had put a substantial dent in my savings, but now that he was back, I’d be working again before long…
Assuming I could bring myself to leave his side.
“C’mon,” I told him, releasing him reluctantly and sliding off the bed. I offered my hand to him and helped him down.
He covered his mouth when he yawned, stretching slowly and giving me a perfect view of his body. He didn’t reach for his clothes, and I didn’t reach for mine even though I was more than a little self-conscious about how I looked.
He didn’t seem to care about my scars though — not anymore, and maybe never. Maybe his cruel words had only been intended to hurt me, without any sort of truth behind them. I didn’t know, and I doubted I ever would. I sure as hell wasn’t going to punish myself by asking.
I led him into the kitchen, and once we were there, he got down on all fours.
My breath caught, and I stared at him. “Toby…”
He meowed at me.
“Fuck,” I mumbled. “You’re so beautiful.”
He nudged my leg with his head, resting against me for a moment before going to the dog bed I hadn’t done anything with. He curled up on it and looked expectantly at me.
I barked out a laugh, realizing he was going to relax while I fixed dinner. I shook my head, but I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. He was going to let me take care of him. He was going to be my kitten.
He was going to be my everything.
I grimaced as I looked through the pantry and fridge, finally shaking my head. “About all I have is cereal,” I told him.
He made a face.
“That’s about what I thought,” I told him. “So pizza or Chinese it is, then.”
He nodded.
“Let’s look at a menu,” I said, gesturing for him to follow me.
To my shock, he followed me on all fours, displaying his ass to perfection as he brushed past me and led us both to the living room. He flopped onto the couch, curling up and watching me as I grabbed the binder of menus I kept on hand.
We went over the options together, finally deciding on Chinese food, and I put the order in on my phone.
“And now we wait,” I told him. I started to reach for the remote, but I hesitated. “Do you want to play?”
He meowed at me, and it went straight to my groin. We didn’t have time for anything but maybe a quickie, but I wasn’t ready to relegate our burgeoning sex life to a quickie just yet. We’d wait.
I’d wait.
“Be right back,” I said. I went to the bedroom, then to the closet. I pulled on a shirt and shorts so I’d have something on when the delivery person arrived. I found where I’d stashed the kitty gear after he’d left. I grabbed what I was looking for and grinned, turning back for the living room.
I half-expected him to be gone, the remnants of a dream, maybe, or a horrible taunt of what I could never have.
Instead, he waited in front of the couch, meowing at me again as I returned.
I held up the large jingly ball I’d gotten, still grinning, and I tossed it.
He stared at it for a moment, looking baffled, then he raced after it.
I wished he had the tail in, the ears on his head, but we’d get there slowly.
There was no rush.
I watched him chase the ball around the living room, scrambling along the carpet, and I relaxed against the sofa.
He batted it around, slowly returning to me, then he pushed it closer to me with his nose. I grabbed it, throwing it again. “I thought you weren’t a pup,” I said dryly. “But that’s fine. Fetch.”
He turned and looked at me, plopping down on the floor.
Well, that served me right, didn’t it?
The ball stayed on the other side of the room, but he rejoined me on the couch. There we sat in silence, him curled up against me while I petted him. I imagined I could hear him purr in satisfaction, content and safe next to me — happy because he wanted to be next to me, not pretending.
It wasn’t until the doorbell rang that I reluctantly got up, kissing his brow before I went to the front door to get our food. I brought it back to the living room, setting the bag down on the coffee table. “Food’s here,” I told him unnecessarily.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he said, sitting down in front of the table.
I snorted and started to dig through the bag, setting our food out in front of us. Maybe I’d ordered a little bit too much, but we needed leftovers to get us through until I could arrange a grocery delivery.
He dug into his with gusto, half the sweet and sour chicken gone in minutes.
“Hungry?” I asked dryly as I slowly worked on my cashew chicken.
“Little bit,” he said, looking a little sheepish.
“You’re going to choke,” I told him.
“At least I’ll die happy,” he said. “I love this stuff.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my lips. He was home, here with me, and I was content. After we ate, I’d pull him back into my arms, and we’d sit there together — both of us wanting to be there, both of us full and happy.
And we’d face the next day together.
And the day after that.
And forever.